


if i can't love you (i can't lose you)

by orphan_account



Series: A Good Soldier [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), Young Justice (Cartoon), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Batfamily (DCU), Bruce Wayne is (dark) Batman, Bruce Wayne is a Bad Parent, Dark Batfamily (DCU), Dick Grayson is Nightingale, Jason Todd is Robin, Misunderstandings, Unreliable Narrator, lots of bad parenting, villain AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:27:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23993749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Everyone knows that even in Gotham, there are rules you don’t break, lines you don’t cross.One rule is to never ever cross Bruce Wayne, in either of his alter egos.Bruce Wayne is a charitable man who donates millions to worthy causes.Batman is a crime lord who controls all of Gotham, down to the last fuckinginch.Or: A slightly darker take on the beginning (and the end) of the Batfamily.
Relationships: Barbara Gordon & Dick Grayson, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson
Series: A Good Soldier [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1730188
Comments: 14
Kudos: 88





	1. beginnings (endings)

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warnings: lots lots LOTS of dysfunctional family talk, my peeps. Also maybe some minor suicide ideation but thats not the main focus here. 
> 
> There’s a bunch of things that are different in this verse. Hear me out:  
> Dick has not met Superman (in person) yet, so he does not get named Nightwing.  
> This uses the yj verse for convenience. Also because I like yj, sue me. Turns out, the timelines are extremely messed up in yj. Like i can’t even. What. I dunno.  
> A lot of things happen sooner, like Babara getting shot by the Joker, Jason dying, etc. So yeah, stuff is messed up a lot. Deal with it.  
> The Watchtower does not exist, seeing as most of the tech came from WayneTech. The JL isn’t broke - i mean, they have Ollie to deal with price tags - but they’re pretty low-tech. The JL and the Team live in much closer quarters, squashed together in the Mountain (though in separate wings). Robin, obviously, is not a part of the Team, as is Batman with the JL.  
> I think that’s it? I’ll add something if it comes up. There’s other stuff that will be explained in later chapters, but this is it for now.
> 
> oh right - also, this was inspired by a mirror!Gotham verse that I can't find anymore - it was on wattpad, but it was stil really really good. It was set during the time Jason died and came back to life, and Tim was joining the Batfamily - the Red Hood was good instead of evil, Batfamily was evil instead of good, etc. Sadly, it was a oneshot D: If i find it again I'll link it here.

Robin was (is) something personal for Dick Grayson.

It was his mother’s name for him, his parent’s legacy. It was to honor them even after death, his personal tribute to them as the Last Flying Grayson.

He couldn’t bring them back, but he could put on one last show in the name.

Maybe that’s why it oh so _hurt_ when Bruce had fired him.

_“It’s not yours to take!”_ he’d screamed, really _screamed_ because, _fuck,_ this wasn’t fair. It _wasn’t._ He wasn’t Bruce’s son, he was Bruce’s _failure,_ he wasn’t _Bruce’s._ He was a _Grayson_ and not a _Wayne_ and Bruce _had_ to fucking stop pretending with this charade of his that was driving him _mad_ , because Robin was _his_ and Bruce had _no goddamned right._

But Bruce never let something as simple as _not right_ stop him, did he?

So Dick left. Because he was tired of Bruce’s bullshit and tired of trying so goddamned _hard_ and only receiving glares and brooding silence in return. Tired of just _trying_ in general, of giving his _all,_ his _everything,_ and only getting scraps of not-affection _(nothing)_ in return.

Dick was so, so tired of it. 

So he left.

-

There are certain unspoken rules, even in Gotham.

One rule is to never _ever_ cross Bruce Wayne, in either of his alter egos.

Bruce Wayne is a charitable man who donates millions to worthy causes.

Batman is a crime lord who controls _all_ of Gotham, down to the last fucking _inch._

If you tried to steal from Bruce Wayne, you were destroyed. Maybe if you were unlucky, Batman would come pay you a visit, but it was far more likely that you would be razed financially - lose your job, lose your love, lose your love, lose your life.

People didn’t cross Bruce Wayne. They just _didn’t._

Batman, on the other hand, was a completely different matter. If Bruce Wayne was a wave of vengeance, then Batman was the _tsunami_ \- impossible to stop, impossible to flee from. He would _ruin_ you - make you watch as your life fell to pieces around you, as your closest friends and family fell to a storm of collateral damage, or turned on you.

_Some people are selfish,_ Bruce had told Dick once, when he’d just been starting out as Robin, had been learning how to make people _hurt_ in the ways that mattered most. _Those are the ones you want to cut directly. Others suffer more when their loved ones are cut._

It was sick and twisted and flat-out _wrong_ and Dick knew it. _Everybody_ knew it. But despite his infamy, few had actually _seen_ Bruce, and therefore could not arrest him - Batman was a myth, not a legend, and it was practically impossible to convict a man that, by all technical purposes, didn’t exist, no matter how hard someone tried.

He’d asked Bruce, once, why they did it. He wasn’t quite sure why _he_ even did it - why he dared taint his family name with such blood, such violence.

_(he remembers his first kill oh so clearly , dead eyes of a life once lived, red red red of the lines he’d smeared and blurred and crossed and it was so_ red)

-maybe it was because he so desperately wanted to _repay_ Bruce, wanted to win his approval, when he’d given him a roof to live under, ~~(inedible)~~ food to eat, a life of luxury he once couldn’t even have _dreamed_ of.

Bruce had just looked at him and said it was necessary.

and all Dick could think was _how?_

Was it _necessary_ to kill?

To ruin?

To completely and utterly _wreck_ not just the _wrong,_ but the unfortunate innocent?

(Dick wasn’t naive, wasn’t blind, knew that it was _murder_ no matter how often Bruce assured him it was merely retribution, knew that he _hurt_ far more than helped. Knew that Bruce had razed entire _countries_ for something as a stubbed _toe_ )

He was Robin, because he liked to think that it made Bruce proud, to at least _somewhat_ show his gratitude for the simple fact of Bruce giving him _everything,_ the _world, his_ world -

(he knew that Bruce loved him in his own stunted way, when he told him to close his eyes right before he performed a particularly gruesome kill, when he sent him out of the room right before he started one of his ~~torture~~ ‘sessions’, when he cooked something up for him even though it was black and burnt and both of them knew to be unsalvageable. He knew he _cared,_ just he didn’t know _how_ to care, he cared by always _controlling_ him and telling him what to do, how to do it ~~who to _kill_ ~~ _)_

But he was _also_ Robin because Robin was the light to Batman’s dark, and Dick had always felt that without Robin to keep Batman tethered to ~~sanity~~ reality, Bruce would have plunged off the deep end entirely. Before him, Bruce had ~~only had one person~~ had utterly _nobody,_ nobody except the haunting reminder of tombstones in his backyard, engraved with names and initials of _M.W, T.W,_ and _A.P._ Before him,Bruce had been alone with only weapons and war to keep his mind occupied.

He liked to think that being Robin made Bruce hold back just a little, made Batman just a bit lighter.

(but a _little_ was never _enough.)_

-

Nightingale was everything Robin had once aspired to be.

Nightingale fought with seductive charm and swift acrobatics and glancing blows that paralyzed instead of killed, breaking collars and backs in harsh reminders not to cross him.

Nightingale didn’t kill. He didn’t have to.

Batman, hated Nightingale.

_Getting the job done halfway isn’t getting the job done,_ Batman had snapped at him.

_I am getting the job done,_ Nightingale had hissed back. _And I don’t have a military_ manhunt _out for my head while I’m at it._

Bludhaven was a city rotten to the core. It’s police force, which Nightingale had the foresight to join as an insider, was raw and festering, corruption like a bulging disease everywhere you looked. Nightingale quickly took control, taking out Blockbuster after a paralytic rendered the hulking brute unable to function from the waist down. 

Simple but effective. Or rather, not so much _simple_ , but definitely effective.

The drugs, the human trafficking, the guns - it was all controlled now by _him._ The rush of power was… addicting, to say the least. He could see, now, how Bruce had gotten lost in the feeling of supremacy, the knowledge that he could do _anything_ with one call, one conversation.

For the first time, Dick was tempted to try for world domination.

He didn’t, of course. One city was good enough for him, and while attempting a hostile takeover of the world was… well, _ambitious,_ the inevitable failure would be a kick in the chest. Besides, he didn’t have the necessary resources, and that damned Justice League always was an annoying obstacle to deal with.

Besides, Bruce would be disappointed to know his power had corrupted Dick ~~not like Bruce hadn’t been all along.~~

(It was pathetic, really, how many of his decisions wholly came down to _what would Bruce think?_ or _what would Bruce do?_ He knew that it was stupid, knew that Bruce didn’t care even _remotely_ close to what _Dick_ did - what Dick _wished_ he did - but he couldn’t help it.

He was a creature of love and light, and he wasn’t naturally akin to the darkness and misery he draped himself in, didn’t quite think the way Bruce did. He wasn’t born in Gotham, but Gotham had a way of turning the brightest hearts to stone, and he was no different.

And yet he still loved Bruce. So much that it _hurt_ because it wasn’t that Bruce didn’t love him back, but he just didn’t _appreciate_ it like Dick did, because he gave it so freely. Didn’t try to move heaven and earth like he did, if only to make the other proud.)

He missed Gotham a little, but mostly it was _Bruce_ that he missed. Home was not a place, it was with family - that had been true at the circus, and continued to be true even now. He so desperately missed him, all of the little things that made him - the rich dark coffee he preferred, the rare smile of approval he gave, the occasional hair ruffle Dick had learned to treasure. It was little, and to anyone else it was _nothing,_ but it was _his_ and nothing else mattered. Not really.

(it did matter, but Bruce was never going to give it to him, so there was no point in dabbling in _what ifs)_

Maybe Bruce didn’t deserve his love. Maybe he didn’t _need_ Bruce’s approval, but he sure _wanted_ it.

Or maybe Bruce didn’t deserve his love, and maybe he didn’t _want_ to give that love in the first place. Maybe he hated Bruce and he didn’t _want_ his love, his approval, but there would always be some small childish urge in him for Bruce to just _love_ him, to just _smile_ at him and be a _normal_ parent for once in his goddamned life.

Maybe there was no maybe.

Like most things in his life, it was complicated.

Nightingale might be _independent,_ but Dick wasn’t. So it was only natural that he eventually gave in and went to check on the Manor.

And then he found out that Bruce had adopted another kid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is short, but next chapter will be longer. 
> 
> Do you want to see more of this? idk honestly.


	2. being replaced (my story rewritten)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick discovers Jason's Robin and all hell breaks loose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally supposed to be longer, but I decided to cut it here so I could get it out quicker. :/

At first he thought the kid had broken in.

“And what might you be doing here?” Dick asked mildly, dropping from out of nowhere. Actually, he’d dropped from the chandelier, but the kid didn’t need to know that.

In hindsight, he probably shouldn’t have approached the kid - he was still wearing his Nightingale uniform, and Nightingale had no business being in the Wayne Manor. Still, the yelp of surprise he got was totally worth it.

Nightingale’s suit was black with a pale gray bird across his chest - he’d come strictly for a ‘business meeting’  ~~ (not because his heart was breaking and he needed Bruce, oh god he needed him so bad, he  _ wanted  _ Bruce’s affection, he really did, but he didn’t, but he  _ did  _ but but but) ~~

The kid, who was prowling rather suspiciously down the hallway and eyeing the vases like he was about to grab one and run, shrieked and leapt a foot into the air. It would’ve been funny if not for the fact that he was  _ trespassing  _ on  _ Wayne territory  _ and  _ shit,  _ Bruce was going to skin this kid  _ alive,  _ and Dick needed to get this kid out  _ right now  _ before Bruce had another murder on his hands. He could maybe say he was the one who had set off the border alarms, get the kid out before Bruce came sniffing…

“And who the hell ah’ you?” demanded the boy. The question was a little startling, to say the least - he’d at least expected some cowering. Or running. Not some random reprisal question. He noted the boy’s Gothamite accent a little absently.

“Woah, there. Chill, bud. What are you doing here?” He held up his hands in the universal gesture for surrendering, though he had absolutely no intention of doing so.

Then the kid’s eyes widened as he caught sight of the gray bird on his chest. “Wait - Holy shit! ‘Yer Dick Grayson!”

Nightingale started. This kid knew their  _ secret identities?  _ “Who?” he asked, playing dumb.

Then, behind the kid, there was an all-too-familiar ripple in the darkness. Batman stepped out in all his demented glory, probably having heard the whole exchange; the bastard.

“Jason,” he says calmly, like it’s normal to know the name of some random kid who’s broken into your house, “This is Dick. Dick, this is Jason. He’s your brother.

Hold up. Wha-

“What the fuck,” Dick blurts. “You adopted another  _ kid?!” _

-

Jason.

Jason is Robin.

Jason is Robin and there is a crater in the wall where Dick has just punched it, but he doesn’t care because  _ what the fuck?! _

He was gone for like three months, creating his  _ criminal empire,  _ and Bruce  _ adopted another kid.  _ Without  _ telling him.  _

And he gave him  _ Robin. _

What the everlasting  _ fuck. _

Robin wasn’t his to fucking  _ give!  _ Robin was  _ his,  _ Robin was supposed to  _ die with him,  _ Robin had suffered enough violence and bloodshed already in its short debut. Robin was a  _ Grayson  _ name and a  _ Grayson  _ tradition and  _ it. Was. HIS. _

And  _ Wayne  _ gave it away like it was nothing at all.

He’s so so mad he can’t even  _ think.  _ It itches under his skin and burns burns  _ burns,  _ hissing and coiling like a lethal snake in his stomach. It’s like the time Batman dragged Zucco in front of him and asked him if he wanted to drop him off the roof or if Batman should, when his parent’s murderer was  _ right  _ in front of him and he wanted to make him  _ pay,  _ to see him  _ bleed  _ for  _ daring  _ to hurt them, robbing of the rest of their  _ lives,  _ the rest of the life  _ he  _ could’ve  _ lived- _

He can’t fucking do this. He  _ can’t fucking- _

But he has to.  ~~ No he doesn’t ~~

Dick  _ explodes  _ as soon as Batman orders Jason to leave.

“What the FUCK, Bruce?” he roars, and it echoes through the cave, making the bats overhead squeak and rustle in discomfort. “I give and I give and I  _ give  _ and  _ this  _ is what I get?! I go and start off a  _ criminal empire  _ to make you  _ proud  _ and you don’t even bother  _ checking  _ on me? You just - you just go off and waltz off and adopt a  _ replacement?!” _

There are tears in his eyes and he’s shaking and he can’tbreathecan’tbreathcan’t _ breathe,  _ it  _ hurts  _ and just  _ how could he?  _ He thought he did so  _ well,  _ he thought he tried so  _ hard,  _ he thought Bruce  _ loved him- _

Bruce doesn’t love him. Bruce  _ never  _ loved him, because he’s not  _ enough,  _ he’s  _ never  _ going to  _ be  _ enough, because Bruce demands  _ perfection  _ and he isn’t perfect, will never be perfect, he was the epitome of  _ im _ perfect and it hurts, it hurts so fucking bad and he just - he  _ can’t.  _ He can’t look the man who is just a mask in his white-lensed eyes and see the reflection of his own desperate blue ones in them, he  _ can’t. _

Dick Grayson is good at running from his problems.

So he does just that.

(“Dick!” he hears Bruce call out after him, and he feels a bit guilty that he didn’t give Bruce a chance to explain himself, but he’s so  _ tired  _ of giving Bruce the benefit of the doubt.

So he runs.)

-

“Hey.”

He’s sitting at the very top of Wayne Enterprises and trying to decide if it would really be so bad if he jumped off. He knows he isn’t thinking straight right now but it just… it  _ hurts  _ and there’s this awful  _ vice  _ gripping his heart and it feels like he can’t  _ breathe,  _ he can’t  _ think _ -

Jason drops down next to him and Nightingale has to look away, because he can’t bear to see Jason in  _ his  _ suit and  _ his  _ colors and… he can’t. He just  _ can’t  _ look at Jason and  _ not  _ think,  _ my replacement,  _ even though he  _ knows  _ it’s not fair but it just it  _ hurts. _

“You know, he really loves you.”

Dick thinks he might just laugh. Or cry. Or both.

(it’s what he’s wanted to hear for so long but it’s not true, it can’t be true)

“You… you were my idol. He always- he always talked about you like some sort of god. Sort of… holy thing.”

This time Dick does laugh. He knows Jason means it as a compliment, but it’s so fucking  _ ironic  _ that he can’t help it. 

It’s honest and truthful, if not a little bitter, and Dick just - he  _ laughs. _

“You deserve him more than me, Little Wing,” he says faintly, and he tries to smile, but the vice  _ squeezes  _ around his heart and reminds him  _ he fired you, he replaced you, he never loved you he HATES you _ and tears blur in his eyes again.

Jason studies him, and Nightingale can feel the hesitation there, the utter caution in which he says his next words. “...do you hate me?”

Nightingale blinks, and he tries to steady himself. He is a performer at heart, is all about balance, knows when to pursue and when to let go  ~~ especially with Bruce ~~ . It hurts and makes his eyes sting but he has no choice, he has to do this, he has to do this, if not for his own sake then for Jason’s, who doesn’t deserve to have the illusion of  _ i love you  _ broken by his own selfishness.

(he was always so much better at catching others than he was himself, was never much of a solo act)

“No,” he lies. “I don’t blame you.”

He  _ does  _ blame Jason, though. It’s not fair, he knows. It’s not fair and he shouldn’t be angry at Jason, he should be mad at Bruce, but it’s so  _ hard  _ for him to hate Bruce and it’s easier to blame Jason, it’s easier to blame him for needing help even though it’s not his fault. It’s easier to be  _ wrong  _ instead of  _ right,  _ and wasn’t that the whole reason Batman was a criminal instead of a hero anyways? It was  _ easier. _

“Oh,” Jason says, relieved. “Oh. Good.”

His eyes burn with tears, maybe guilt or hurt or self-hatred, and it’s not  _ fair  _ he knows but  _ Gotham  _ isn’t fair,

_ life  _ isn’t fair, 

_ Bruce  _ isn’t fair, 

so why should he be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thoughts?


End file.
